“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Lorenzo?—”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box before dropping to one knee.
“Will you marry me, Zara?” he continued, opening the box. “Again? For real this time?”
I looked at the ring.
It was bigger than anything I’d ever seen. A massive diamond, flanked by smaller stones and set in platinum. The stones caught the candlelight, throwing sparks across the courtyard. It was absurd. It was excessive. And It was so Lorenzo that I probably would have laughed if I weren’t sobbing. All I can focus on was the man on his knees in front of me, his eyes wet, his voice raw, offering me everything I never knew I wanted.
“We’re already married,” I choked out, because apparently my brain had short-circuited and I could only state the obvious.
“That was an agreement,” he said again, patient, unwavering. “This is a choice. Your choice.”
I let out a watery laugh. “Even if I said no, you’d never let me go.”
“Cazzo.” He laughed too, a broken sound. “You’re right. I wouldn’t. I’d still spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy, trying to earn your love, even if you never said yes.”
I looked at the ring, at the candles, at the roses someone labored hours to arrange, and at the man who tracked my phone, crashed my date, tied me up, and ravished me until I lost myself—then cooked dinner and held me while I wept.
He was chaos. He was obsessed. He was the most terrifying, wonderful, infuriating thing that’s ever happened to me.
And I loved him.
“Of course,” I whispered. “Of course I’ll marry you. Again.”
Lorenzo’s face broke into a smile I’ve never seen before. Pure, unfiltered joy, lighting up his dark features, making him look younger, lighter, free.
“I want you to be my wife until the end of time,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And beyond. I want to find you in every life, in every universe, in every version of existence. I want to love you until the stars burn out and the world goes dark.”
I’m crying again. “That’s—that’s so cheesy.”
“I know.” He grinned, standing up, pulling me into his arms. “Blame the romance of Verona.”
He kissed me. Soft, tender, tasting of salt from our tears and the promise of everything to come. I melted into him, my hands fisting in his shirt, the ring heavy and grounding on my finger.
“Surprise!”
I broke the kiss, spinning around to where my sister was standing at the courtyard entrance. My sister, who I haven’t seen in almost a year. And who was supposed to be in college in California.
Behind her was my brother, Kai.
And next to them, grinning like an idiot, was Marcus.
“What—” I looked at Lorenzo, then back at them, then back at Lorenzo. “What is this? How?—”
“I flew them in,” Lorenzo said, his hands on my shoulders. “I wanted them to be here. You deserved to have your family here with you.”
“On a damn PJ, Zara!” Marcus added in.
My knees went weak. I feel dizzy, overwhelmed by it all.
“Zara!” Rowen ran forward, throwing her arms around me. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this. You’re engaged! Wait, didn’t you already?—”
“It’s complicated,” I managed, laughing and crying at the same time.
“You’re so screwed,” she says, pulling back to look at me. Her eyes were wide, flickering between relief, disbelief, and something almost like hurt. “You never told us. You never mentioned a fiancé. About a husband. About any of this!” Her voice cracks a little, and I could see the questions building behind her expression—worry, confusion, maybe even a little anger that I’d kept this whole world from her. For a moment, she looks as if she wants to hug me again or shake me.
Guilt twists in my stomach, sharp and unexpected. The joy from the proposal dims, replaced by shame for keeping secrets. For a moment, my happiness shifts into anxiety—maybe I was afraid they’d judge me, or see how desperate things really were. I missed them so much, but letting them in meant admitting what I’d been hiding and how alone I felt. I worry I’ve damaged something fragile by keeping my distance, as emotions swing from joy to uncertainty.
